


Teasing

by Forgotten_Logic



Series: Random Short Stories [5]
Category: Transformers
Genre: Feeding Kink, M/M, Mild Teasing, Um.... I got nothing???, foreplay with no play, tags will be added later... I think.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 01:16:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9633884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forgotten_Logic/pseuds/Forgotten_Logic
Summary: Op has a snack attack and Ratchet just kind of teases him out of berth??? I don't know. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO WRITE THIS JERALD?! You wrote the script!





	

It was late at night and everyone the ship was either asleep or in recharge. Okay, that’s not right, one for sure wasn’t in recharge. Quite not, unless you call standing in the kitchen in the middle of the night recharge. This one mech, was standing from the fridge, digging into the leftover pizza from dinner. He was hungry but this was not satisfying, not in the least. But that didn’t stop him from finishing off what was left of it, only then to move on to something that he hoped would make his stomach stop. Stop wanting food. 

But then, another growl came, long and drawn out. This mech let out a sigh, and grabbed the next thing in his sights: a cake with only two (small) slices taken out. But this mech didn’t want to just have a slice, no. He wanted to eat the whole thing, just enough (hopefully) to shut his tank up. He closed the door to the fridge and plopped the cake on the counter and grabbed a fork. He did not want any evidence to point in the direction of Optimus Prime being a late night piggy. And with that fork in his servo, he plopped his supple aft onto the stool. Optimus did not even bother to cut the cake, he just went straight in: falling victim to Ratchet’s cooking.

Ratchet had been taking some notes on how Nightblade cooked while in holoform and not. And usually Night enjoyed having some help in the kitchen, Ratchet, likewise enjoyed knowing how to cook all sorts of things. Cakes seemed to be his specialty. 

After the first heaping forkful, he hummed. The sweet cake with a light and (slightly) salty crème that covered the whole thing, filled his entire mouth. The crème melted on his glossa while the cake was light and airy. He loved it! As he chewed, he found little pieces of something else… brownie chunks? Primus! Each little brownie chunk that was found made the Prime groan.

Bite by bite, forkful by forkful, the cake, vanished. It was a good cake while it lasted, but now at least, Optimus wasn’t hungry, so he stumbled off to berth with his mate.

The following morning, which for him reached further into the afternoon than anything, he didn’t want to get up. He felt bloated, and kind of uncomfortable. No one could tell that the night before he decided to polish off the leftover pizza and the cake, oh but he could. He didn’t want to get up at all. 

That’s where Ratchet began to worry. Optimus was never known to pull back, relax. So him staying in his berth all day made everyone – especially Ratchet – concerned. Though everyone knows that he is a mech like everyone else, he holds the Matrix, the Matrix of Leadership! Which, is a symbol of primacy! And sometimes, everyone just forgets that he is like every other mecha, that he is not only Prime.

But Ratchet knew that he was Prime, but he also knew him as Optimus, as Orion. He knew this was not like him. Sure Optimus was known to get lost in data pads, but still, that’s not the same. So he took matters into his own servos.

“Orion. Get out of berth.”

“I don’t want to,” A very unprimely response came from the blue and red heap that laid face down on the berth. He really just wanted to go back into recharge, and maybe an Energon cube.

“Orion,” the stern, low growl came from his medic, his mate, and with it, forced him to lift his helm. His gaze unwavering, but showed something that he felt: worry. “Are you ill?” And that worry still showed. 

“No. I just don’t want to get up. Ultra Magnus can hold down the fort, can’t he?” The Prime’s voice then became muffled when he put his face plates straight against the berth’s surface. A scoff rose from the throat of the medic, who came around the berth and just sat on the Prime, to wit, released a surprised gasp. But he then laughed, another not-so primely thing to do. “Yes, well, you do have a point.”

Ratchet leaned down, extremely close to Optimus’ audial, soliciting a shiver from him. “But he ain’t you,” Ratchet said huskily, poking the audial with his glossa. “Ratchet…” Optimus purred, “I – I’ll get up, as long as you stop teasing me!”

“And where would the fun be in that?” He smirked, but that smirked nearly got rolled on the berth with him when the Prime rolled over while he was still on top. He looked at Ratchet, seeing the lust in his optics. It was enough to make his engine just rev and keep revving!

“Are you sure it’s wise to tease me?” He lowered his tone, knowing it would drive Ratchet up the wall! He was for sure right, especially since Ratchet was the medical officer, he was quite fine-tuned for tonality. He shivered. When Ratchet regained his composure, he then lowered his servo down just over Optimus’ interface panel.

It was now Optimus that shivered, the light, tentative touches were just enough to get his spike to pressurize behind his panel. It was driving him crazy! And when Ratchet stopped his little strokes along the sensitive metal, which made him nearly lose it! He groaned with his disappointment.

But there was self-satisfied smirk decorated on Ratchet’s face plates. _Primus, why do you do this to me?_

“I was never wise, Orion.”

 _Damn you, Ratchet!_

He then leaned down, both servos were placed firmly on Optimus’ wind shields. He placed a chaste kiss onto the lips of the Prime, only then to get up and off. “Oh, come on Ratchet.” Optimus now leaned up, a semi fake frown.

“Ep-ep-ep! If you want me to treat you.” He put his servo just above Optimus’ spark chamber. “Then you have to get up. I’ll treat you.” Optimus then, much to Ratchet’s surprise, took both his servos and held them above his helm. He then leaned into his medic, and mate, and pushed him against the wall.

“Without teasing me until my circuits fry.” It was not a question, oh no, it was and order. Optimus made sure his tonality was low enough that it made Ratchet just quake under his hold. 

“Yes sir.” He decided to play with his own husky voice. _Damn it!_

“Ratchet!”  
“What?” Ratchet, looking innocent. Heh, far from!  
“You’re such a fragging tease!”  
“Oh, but you love me.”  
“Yes, I love you – fragger.”

**Author's Note:**

> Uhhhh... Hi. Funny story, actually. I wrote this a few months back and never posted??? I don't know, don't really care but I did have a plan for a continuation to this one in particular piece of scrap in my collection. Either way, if you've made it this far, thanks for reading! :3 ❤
> 
> Btw, I just deleted Sparked Love because I thought it would be easier than to keep and update each chapter without deleting the old chapters. It would make it choppy and sloppy and I already have a need for higher quality from myself than that. It'd be disappointing for me to leave something half done and half not...


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